A spotlight on a dusty stage;
The last of day crept on the floor
As blood filled eyes that never age
Now peered up at his coffin's door.
The hunt that fate can never sate
Now prowls across the foggy moor
And slips within the village gate
With appetite that must restore
The blood of life that lives and dies
And then is born to seek again.
A painful truth that never lies,
A curse so real it never ends.
Another lured to evil's whim,
Drawn to the eyes they can't resist,
Reflecting distant candle dim,
And falling there to life's last kiss.
Written Nov. 14, 2013 by Craig Cornish
For Archaic Poet's Vampire Contest